Untraceable Melody
by SecretlyEvil
Summary: The classic Malon and Link romance, complete with Ingo cruelty. Difference? It's Malon's side of the story. Yes, I know it's been done, but hopefully my style is interesting enough for you to read and review!Rated for violence, language and sexual content
1. A Short But Lasting Friendship

Prologue: A Short But Lasting Friendship  
  
Sunsets at Lon Lon Ranch were always beautiful, even on rainy days. Streaked with colours, almost like a rainbow. Pink, yellow, red. This one was especially pretty. The clouds were stretched out in tiny clusters and their underbellies were tinged to match the sky.  
  
A small girl with bright, shiny blue eyes and long wavy red hair sat on the fence post at the entrance to the ranch, watching the last rays of sun fade away behind it's tall stone walls. It had been a good day. A family from Hyrule Castle Town had come to visit. She had played with the children at hide and seek in the hayloft, and taught the oldest girl the basics of riding a horse.  
  
Malon hummed a snatch of a tune her mother used to sing. The young colt she was raising, a free-spirited roan named Epona, snorted softly and rubbed her velvety snout on the girl's hand. Malon patted it's head absently, lost in thoughts about her mother. She'd been a good-natured woman, with a good sense of humour and a great love of life. Malon couldn't remember much about her; she'd died when she was only 6. The most she recalled was her mother's sweet voice that was said could tame the wildest stallion.  
  
"I wish she was still alive," she told Epona, who flattened her ears back to listen. "I'm the only person I know that doesn't have a mother." Epona blinked her dark eyes, and Malon smiled. "You always listen. I love you, Epona." She hugged the horse close.  
  
The wind swirled about Malon, mussing her hair and shifting her long white dress that hung to her ankles. Today was cleaning day, and she was out in the fields giving the horses their weekly shower. She dipped her brush into the pail of water for the umpteenth time. When she straightened, she saw a boy coming 'round the bend on the ranch's pathway.  
  
He was a curious character, dressed in odd clothes and followed by a white fairy. He had long blonde hair that he held back with a green cap. His startling blue eyes caught the sunshine, and when his gaze fell on Malon, he gave her a friendly smile. They had met before, on the road to Hyrule Castle. She dropped her brush, pleased to have an excuse to interrupt her cleaning, and ran out to meet him.  
  
"Oh, it's you, Fairy Boy! I was wondering when you'd finally come along for a visit." He just smiled and nodded. "Father wanted to thank you for waking him," she continued, trying to get him to speak, but again he just nodded. She almost frowned. Was the boy a mute, or simply dim-witted? Probably the latter.  
  
She noticed the Fairy Boy looking over her shoulder at something, and when she turned, she found Epona, watching him warily. "I'd like you to meet a friend of mine, Fairy Boy," said Malon over her shoulder. "This is Epona. You can pet her if you like."  
  
The Fairy Boy stretched out his hand to touch Epona's glossy mane, but before he could, the horse dashed away as though someone had hit her rump. The boy looked only slightly disappointed. Malon frowned after the colt. "She doesn't seem to like you very much..." He shrugged his shoulders resignedly.  
  
Irritated by his silence, Malon began pelting the boy with questions. He never answered in complete sentences: always the shortest response possible. She learned that his name was Link, that he came from Kokiri Forest, that he had left home to search for treasure, and little else. After several more attempts to engage him in conversation, she gave up, concluding that he was a listener, not a talker. So, to fill his own silence, she began talking about her favourite subject in the whole world: horses.  
  
Link was a good listener. His eyes never strayed from her face, and he nodded and smiled at all the right parts. As the morning wore on, Malon decided that Link wasn't really as dim-witted as she had thought, and that he was quite a nice boy once you got to talk to him. She spoke to him about grooming, riding, feeding, training and horses' feelings and habits. When she mentioned the song that she sang to calm Epona down, she noticed an odd glint appear in the boy's eyes. Without shifting his gaze, Link reached into his pack and pulled out a small, wooden ocarina.  
  
"Oh, cute ocarina," she exclaimed. "Do you want to learn to play my song?"  
  
Nod.  
  
So Malon taught him her mother's song, the one that Epona seemed to love so much. Soon after that, Link stood up and announced that it was time for him to leave. Malon shook his hand and invited him to come again soon.  
  
That was the start of a great friendship between the two children. Link visited often, and as the two got closer, he began to talk more; about his adventures, his life in Kokiri Forest, anything that came to mind. Malon felt even closer to him when he confessed that he, too, had no mother. They would laze around in the field, or jump around in the hay, or play with the Cuccos. Once they had a picnic outside the ranch under the tall tree at the entrance.  
  
And then, he just stopped coming. The last time Malon saw him was the day before Hyrule Castle was taken over by Ganondorf and his men. Refugees had come pouring into the gates, telling the most awful stories. For weeks she waited for him to come back, but he never did. Overtime, he became nothing more then a memory... 


	2. The Visiting King

Chapter 1: The Visiting King  
  
Six years had come and gone since Malon had met Link. During that time, the land had become a dangerous and hostile place. Malon could barely remember the last time Lon Lon Ranch had received visitors. Talon always carried a crossbow when he went out to deliver milk to Kakariko Village.  
  
It seemed the people had changed as well. What Malon could remember of people's visits was that they weren't as cheery as before. They seemed darker, more sombre. Especially Mr. Ingo.  
  
She stole a glance at the figure crossing the lawn without stopping the mechanical movements of her arm dipping into the seed bag and bringing out food for the Cuccos. He was tall and skinny, with a funny little moustache Malon used to love to tug on when she was a child. These days, she didn't want to be in the same room as him, let alone be close enough to touch his moustache. She vaguely remembered a different Mr. Ingo, one that smiled without having an almost crazed light in his eyes. One that didn't glare at her something fierce for no reason at all. One that didn't say wicked things to her when her father was out. He scared her, Mr. Ingo did. She had learned to stay clear of him. However, sometimes encounters were unavoidable.  
  
On his way into the house, Ingo stopped and turned his head to look at Malon with the sour scowl she had grown used to. "What are you doing feeding the chickens? His Majesty is probably on his way at this very moment! Go and do something useful, like cleaning out the stalls!" With that, he disappeared through the door.  
  
Malon made a face. He did that often of late, acting as though she were the hired hand instead of him. When he gave her orders, she usually ignored them, just to spite him. She had cleaned the stalls that very morning. If there was already something fowl on the floor, 'His Majesty' should have sense enough to simply step over it.  
  
Yesterday, they had received a letter held with the royal seal. Well, not the true royal seal, but the seal Ganondorf now used, a fist holding a sword dripping with blood. Ingo looked pleased, Talon worried, as his big fingers fumbled with the black wax seal and gingerly opened up the envelope. Inside was a letter, written in an elaborate, loopy hand and filled with fancy words and formalities. Talon tried to read it aloud, struggling with a sentence or two before Ingo nearly ripped it out of his hands and took over. It was very long, and had far too many long words that Malon didn't understand. She was only a simple ranch girl, after all. Her father listened intently, thick arms crossed and brow furrowed in concentration. When Ingo was finished, he folded the letter lovingly, placed it carefully back into it's envelope, and disappeared out the door, undoubtedly to his room above the loft to put it away. Talon scrubbed a hand through his hair nervously.  
  
"What is it, Daddy?" Malon asked.  
  
"His Majesty's comin' over tomorrer to check out the ranch. See if it's all in workin' order, an' stuff." He looked worried.  
  
Malon smiled sweetly at her father, hoping it would cheer him up. "Well that's not bad, Daddy. I thought it'd be something awful. I can put on my nice dress, and plan out something nice to say, and-"But Talon stopped her.  
  
"No no, Malon, you can stay in our room." He lowered his voice, as though there was someone else in the room, when really there was just the two of them. "That man, he's dangerous. I want you to stay as far from him as possible." The girl hesitated, but seeing the look on her father's face, nodded reluctantly.  
  
Presently, there came the sound of the clop clop of horses' hooves in the distance, growing in volume. Malon snatched up the bag of seed and rushed inside. "He's coming, I hear his horses," she called, dropping the bag by the door. Her father emerged from the bedroom, dressed in his best suit and nervously fixing his collar. Malon gave him an encouraging smile, but the one he returned was more of an emotionless flash of teeth then a warming grin.  
  
Once safely shut away in the room, Malon sat down on the edge of her bed and tried not to fidget. She heard voices outside, and couldn't resist going to the window to take a peek.  
  
Standing outside were her father, Mr. Ingo, two dangerous-looking men with curved scabbards slung into their belts and hard faces, and... him. He'd been described to her before, but she could never have pictured something so... awful. Not that he was ugly – some women might think he was handsome – but Malon had never seen anything as evil as this in her entire life.  
  
He was enormously big and tall. He towered over everyone around him, and the proud vibe that seemed to resonate from his presence only made him seem even larger. He was covered from head to toe in metal and leather, coloured red and black. On his gauntlets and boots were strange designs that Malon guessed were probably ancient Gerudo runes. However, it was his face that made him look so terrible.  
  
His small, sharp, red eyes stared down is long, beak-like nose at Talon and Ingo, complete with a mocking sneer on his thin lips. He reminded Malon so much of a hawk that she almost went to the bookshelf to get her father's bird book and compare. His face frightened her, more then Ingo ever had. The two men that accompanied him did all the talking, he just watched the two farmers. After a moment, they entered the stable.  
  
Malon moved away from the window to sit once again on her bed. It had suddenly struck her how odd this was. What would the ruler of Hyrule himself be doing down here to inspect the ranch? Wouldn't it be much easier just to send a representative, or something? She lay down in her bed to think, and eventually fell asleep.  
  
She awoke about a half hour later to the sound of the kitchen door opening and closing. She stood and pressed her ear against the bedroom door to listen. She heard a man speaking with a loud, deep voice. That's Ganondorf's voice, or I'm a cabbage, she thought.  
  
"This ranch is a sorry dump," Ganondorf spat harshly. "A dead swine could keep it in better condition then you, Mr. Talon."  
  
Malon bit back a hiss. Who did he think he was, coming in here and speaking trash about the ranch! I'd like to see him sweating and covered in cow manure, and see how he handled it, she thought. She carefully opened the door a crack to peer in. "-so I've decided to take the ranch out of your hands and give it to a better candidate." Ganondorf finished. But Talon was already stuttering his protest.  
  
"M-my Lord, most g-gracious Highness, I-I beg you to reconsider. I p- promise, on my very honour, I will–will improve, I swear it! Mr. Ingo, myself, and-and my daughter, sir, we'd have nowheres to go! This ranch is our-our life!" Malon had a hand over her mouth in shock. Had she heard correctly? Was Ganondorf forcing them to relocate? It was unthinkable! Their family had had possession of these parts for time out of mind.  
  
"You need not worry about Mr. Ingo, nor your precious daughter," the king said with a cold, mirthless smile. "It is only you that I order out of this home. Mr. Ingo is the one who will be running the ranch from now on, and your daughter may stay if she wishes."  
  
Talon's jaw dropped in disbelief and he turned to look at Ingo, who could not hide his smug, satisfied smile. "Ingo, y-you... I can't believe this! After all these years we've sheltered you, treated you like a family member- "  
  
"Shut up, you big oaf," Ingo growled. "You never deserved any of this. By rights, this should have been my ranch, my horses, from the start!" Tears brimmed in Malon's eyes. How could he do this? What were they to do? She watched her father's face, wishing she could run downstairs and hug him, he looked so lost and hopeless.  
  
Ganondorf moved toward the door, and his henchmen followed. "Our business is finished. You will obey my orders, Mr. Talon, or be hanged for treason to the throne." With that, he left.  
  
Talon's bewildered expression faded into a dangerous, deadly glare as he turned to Ingo. "You bloody, traitorous son of a bitch," he growled, forcing Ingo to flatten against the wall as he stepped forward, clenching a fist. "I should'a known, you were always a little scrawny bastard who hid in big guys's shadows. I won't forget this in a hurry, you can believe that." He turned away, and Ingo heaved a sigh of relief. He had come very close to getting his brains beaten out of him, and he knew that very well.  
  
When Talon stepped into the bedroom to collect his things, Malon tried to wipe the tears from her eyes, but she was too late. "Malon, you... you've been cryin'." He sighed. "You were listnin' at the door, weren't you? Well, then I guess we need to start our packin'." But Malon shook her head. "Daddy, you know I don't want to stay here, but if we both leave, Mr. Ingo could do anything to the horses. I have to stay behind, you know that as well as I do." She had tried to sound determined, but her voice had shaken.  
  
Talon looked more lost and scared then ever as he nodded his head. "You're right, of course." His expression darkened. "But I don't want to leave you with that – that... man. If I could find someone to keep an eye on you, make sure he doesn't hurt you..."  
  
"You know that's not possible, Daddy," she sighed, taking her father's hand. "Besides, I'm a strong girl, I can take care of myself. I'm sixteen years old, after all." She wished she felt as confident as she was trying to sound.  
  
Before the next hour, Talon was packed and ready to go, with a bulging pack slung over his back. He hugged his daughter so tightly she thought she might be as flat as parchment when he let go. With a kiss on the cheek from Malon and a last hateful glare at Ingo, he trudged off around the bend, and was gone. 


	3. The Tyrant

Chapter 2: The Tyrant  
  
Malon had known her life would be hard once her father was gone, but she had never expected it to be this hard. Ingo, for all his talk of being so much more hard-working then Talon, barely did anything at all anymore. She did all the work around the ranch, milking the cows, grooming and training the horses, tending the small garden patch, collecting the Cuccos' eggs, and cooking and cleaning up after every meal. When Ingo wasn't out 'delivering wares', he was strutting about the grounds, sometimes stopping to sit down near where Malon was working and taunt her. When he did this, she kept a smooth face and a straight back. She would not let him have an affect on her.  
  
One night, when Ingo was out 'delivering wares', Malon took a ride on Epona out in Hyrule Field. The colt had grown into a big, strong and fast rusty mare. Her trainer delighted in her exceptional speed and agility. Malon loved racing across the fields, wind blowing back her long red hair. The excitement, the rush, the feel of the horse moving under her, it was exhilarating, and it was the only thing that gave her any pleasure these days. While she was riding, she lost all track of time.  
  
Riding Epona back through Lon Lon Ranch's gates, Malon noticed light shining through the kitchen window and cursed. Ingo would not be pleased she had been out. She dismounted, led the horse into the stable, unsaddled the mare as quietly as possible, and left her in a stall with a nosebag full of oats.  
  
She opened the door a crack and peered inside, hoping Ingo would be sleeping. But no, he was there, sitting at the kitchen table with the sourest look she had ever seen on his face. When he saw her, he jumped to his feet. "Where have you been, you little chit? I told you never to leave the ranch without my permission!"  
  
Malon was frightened, but she kept her back straight and her face blank and dignified. "Epona hasn't been out on the open field in a long time, Mr. Ingo. I thought that a good long run would loosen her joi-"  
  
"Silence!" Ingo snapped. "I don't care if the ranch is on fire when I'm out, you will not leave the property unless I tell you to!"  
  
"You're being entirely unreasonable," said Malon, with an air as though they were discussing this over tea. She began taking out ingredients to bake the next morning's scones. "I stayed here at the ranch of my own free will. I could have left with my father and let you to deal with all the chores around here alone. I can leave when I want to. You have no power over me."  
  
She was not aware of Ingo being beside her until it was too late, and his hand was swinging at her out of nowhere. He struck her face with great force, and she was knocked against the wall with a scream of pain. He stood there with his hand still raised, as though he wanted to hit her again, chest heaving and face purple with rage. "I have complete power over you, scrawny little monster!" he roared. Malon stared up at him, wide-eyed with fear. "You talk like that to me again, and I'll make you wish your mother had drowned you when she'd first clapped eyes on your disgusting, ungrateful face!"  
  
When he'd gone up into the bedroom, Malon slid to the floor, hugged her knees close, and buried her face in her arms, sobbing. She'd been so scared, and he'd hit her so hard.  
  
That was the first time Ingo had hurt her, but it most definitely would not be the last. The next six months were a nightmare.  
  
Ingo seemed to have realized that hitting Malon made her more submissive, because as the weeks wore on, he hit her harder, more often, and for less important reasons. One time, he'd come home late and had slapped her face before going to bed, for absolutely no reason at all.  
  
And Malon's fear of him before he had started to hit her was nothing compared to how much he scared her now. Then, she could summon the courage to scowl at him, look him in the eye, or sometimes talk to him. Since he had started hitting her, she would stiffen and lower her head whenever he walked by. She did anything he told her to without question. Anything to avoid another bruise, another black eye, another lash. Every morning, she'd wake up, feeling as though she hadn't gotten any sleep at all, and every night, she'd go to bed trying to get comfortable in her lumpy mattress up in the hayloft and aching all over.  
  
One night, after Ingo had beaten her repeatedly with a broom handle, she decided to run away to Kakariko Village and live with her father, but he caught her saddling Epona in the early hours before dawn, and gave her such a thrashing, she would never even have thought of leaving again, even without the lock on her door that Ingo installed the very next day.  
  
But one day, Ingo took his abuse to a whole new level.  
  
It was a cold, chill afternoon. The wind blew exceptionally hard against the window shutters, making them rattle. Malon hadn't taken the cows out to graze; instead she left them in the barn with a bale of hay. She kept the chickens and horses in as well. The animals would not enjoy being whipped about by that harsh wind.  
  
Ingo was sitting at the kitchen table, grumbling and groaning about how hungry he was and how lazy teenage girls were and Malon was standing by the stove, quiet as a church mouse, stirring a pot of stew, when they both heard the sound of hooves on the dirt path. Ingo leaped to his feet and raced to the bedroom, shouting something about fixing himself up. The girl stayed where she was. There was no point in trying to make herself look presentable: she knew she looked awful no matter what, with the enormous circles under her eyes and the large purple bruise on her cheek she had spotted in her reflection in the horses' water pail. Besides, Ingo completely ignored her when they received visits, seldom as they were, probably not wanting to draw attention to the awful state she was in. And maybe the visitors wanted some stew...  
  
Outside, she heard the hooves stop, voices, and then a knock at the door. She glanced at Ingo's bedroom door worriedly. Would he come down and answer the door, or-  
  
"Let the guests in, girl, don't keep them waiting!" Ingo's voice hollered from upstairs. So Malon put down her ladle, shuffled over to the door and opened it.  
  
Her heart skipped a beat.  
  
Ganondorf stood there, flanked by two soldiers and looking down at her with a smile that did not reach his hawk-like eyes. She just stood there like a dumb mute, paralysed with fear. She was bumped out of the way by Ingo, who had emerged from his room wearing his good suit. "My Lord! What a pleasant surprise!" Ingo exclaimed with an oily tone he used with guests. "You honour us with your presence! Please, won't you come inside!" To Malon, he hissed, "Go and see to his Majesty's horses, girl." She was only too willing to obey.  
  
When her task was done, she retreated into her tiny room in the loft, pleased to have a moment to herself. Whatever Ganondorf wanted, it was none of her concern. She sat down on her bed, careful not to fall asleep, and waited for the king and his men to come into the stable so that she could saddle their horses again. It didn't take as long as she had expected. The three men waited silently, but she dared not look at them; she did not want to offend. When they were gone, she walked into the kitchen.  
  
She caught a glimpse of Ingo's purple face, angrier then she'd ever seen it, before he had seized her and threw her bodily across the room. She screamed and almost lost her balance, but managed to steady herself against the wall.  
  
"His Majesty says this ranch has scarcely improved at all since the last time he's seen it," Ingo said quietly, dangerously. "Do you know what that means, little bitch?" Malon shook her head, a whimper escaping her lips. Ingo looked so angry, he looked ready to kill her. "It means it hasn't changed at all. It means this place hasn't improved. It means you've been slacking on your duties, shirking your chores!" His last words had come out as a shout. He began to circle the table to get closer to her, and she circled with him to stay as far away as she could, eyes wide, heart hammering.  
  
"N-no, I've been trying hard, I swear!" she stuttered. "Please, y-you have to believe me! I-I can't work any harder th-then I am!"  
  
"Liar! You did this on purpose! You wanted me to look bad in front of the king so that your 'daddy' would get his precious ranch back!"  
  
"No! I swear!"  
  
Suddenly, Ingo lunged at her, but she dodged him and threw herself at the door. She clawed at the doorknob, but couldn't get it open. Her mind had gone all fuzzy. Hurry! her head screamed, but her hands would not obey. Just as she managed to turn the knob, Ingo seized her by the middle and flung her away from the door, knocking her into the table and stunning her momentarily. When her head cleared again, she saw Ingo standing over her with a horsewhip in his hand and a mad, red glint in his eyes. She screamed and tried to back away, but she was already flattened against the toppled table. With a whoosh and a snap, the whip came down.  
  
It was the most horrifying experience of her life. He beat her for longer then he ever had before. He kicked her, punched her, slapped her, and whipped her. There was no pattern, he was just intent on hurting her as much as he could. Malon screamed and screamed, until her voice grew hoarse, begging him to stop, but he never did, he just struck her over and over as she huddled defenceless against the table and screamed for mercy. Pain shot through every inch of her body, skin stinging, flesh burning, muscle throbbing. Finally, after what seemed like years of punishment, he tossed the whip onto the floor and went to bed.  
  
How she made it back to her bed that night, Malon had no idea. She vaguely remembered stumbling from the house to the stable, covered in blood and sweat, her clothing in shreds, and collapsing several times. When she awoke the next morning after a sleep full of nightmares, it was well after sunrise, and Ingo was out in the pastures watching the horses. She cleaned herself off as best she could with the horses' drinking water, and put on fresh clothing, but stayed in her room the entire day, as Ingo never called her down. Could he be sorry for what he'd done?  
  
During the next week, Ingo barely spoke to her at all: there was no need to. Malon did all her chores silently and without complaint. He only hit her once in a two-week period, and that had been for spilling the chicken feed all over the stable floor. Even when he did hit her, it was just a hard slap on the arm, not like the full-fisted punch he usually gave her for far less important blunders.  
  
However, it didn't last. By the end of the month, he was back to his old habits, and Malon once again grew used to being hit at least four or five times a day. 


	4. Familiar Strangers

Chapter 3: Familiar Strangers  
  
Ingo had certainly taken Ganondorf's visit to heart. He suddenly was completely involved with everything that was going on at the ranch, and had Malon work much harder then usual, if that was possible. One day he went out to town and came back with a box full of new tiles for the roof. Malon spent the next three days re-tiling the roof, which didn't even need it in the first place. He also had her rebuild the rickety stable door, and replace the old rusted gate that had never been closed with a new one. There were new shoes and saddles for the horses, and two more cows to add to the number. Malon was hard pressed with all the work to be done. And what irritated her the most was that it wasn't working. They were receiving no more visitors then before.  
  
A bird chirped outside. Malon almost fell out of her bed in surprise. The sound had so seldom been heard she wondered if she perhaps had just imagined it. But no, it came again, a small, delicate tweet just outside her window. She dressed herself with a smile on her face. The sound of life other then the mooing of cows and the whinnies of horses seemed to have boosted her spirit, if only a little. She even managed to forget the aches in her limbs as she made breakfast, too busy wondering what had brought the bird back again after it's long absence. She had heard or seen birds only rarely, unless she counted the vile crows that constantly circled the ranch at night.  
  
As soon as the last jam tart was in his mouth, Ingo was up and out the door to send the horses into the circled off paddock. When Malon was done cleaning up, she took the milk pail and crossed Lon Lon ranch's path to the stable. When she opened the door, she jumped and dropped her pail in surprise.  
  
A young man stood leaning on the opposite wall, studying her with piercing sapphire eyes. He was clad in a blue tunic and hat with a long sword strapped to his back and had longish blonde hair, partially held back by the hat, that fell over his eyes. Lean and tall, and quite handsome, he looked like a travelling warrior, and Malon estimated that he was about her age.  
  
She picked up the fallen pail, and, avoiding his eyes, proceeded toward the cows. "I'm sorry, sir," she said, "but I don't think you should be in here. If you'd like to ride a horse, you might want to go speak to Mr. Ingo. He's at the paddock gate outside."  
  
The man didn't speak. He just stared at her with those striking eyes. She sneaked a glance at him, blushing under his scrutiny. He made her nervous; she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She propped a stool up beside the first cow, still not looking at him, and began her work. When his silence continued, she wondered if he had not heard her. "You might want to speak to Mr. Ingo," she repeated. "He's out-"  
  
"Alright, don't worry, I'm going!" he burst out suddenly, a mocking smile on his face. "Don't faint, now!" And he left.  
  
Malon stared at the door from which he'd left, stunned. When he'd smiled just then, he had seemed so familiar. Had she met him before her father had left, by any chance? Her brow creased in thought as she tried to remember, but it was no use. Everything that had happened in her life before her father's departure was like a blur in her mind. She even had a hard time remembering her father's face sometimes, though it had only been a year since she'd last seen him. The only thing that stood out clearly in her mind was a song that she found herself humming when her mind wandered. She couldn't remember who she'd learned it from, or what it meant, only that, for some reason, it was very important. She had to make sure not to sing it in Ingo's presence, however. He hated it.  
  
When she'd finally finished milking the cow, she poured it into glass bottles for sale and then led the cattle out to graze. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched the mysterious young man in the fenced in horse area. He was standing next to Epona, patting her sleek white mane. The boy smiled as she bent her great head and nuzzled her nose against his shoulder. Malon completely forgot herself and stared openly. Epona never reacted kindly to strangers. The only person she trusted was Malon, and even Ingo, whom she had known her entire life, she watched somewhat warily whenever he was near. And up walks this strange man, and she warms to him as though he were an old friend? Even if the boy were an expert rider, like a gerudo, she would probably have bolted rather then let him mount her.  
  
And an expert he was not, to be sure. He mounted almost clumsily and, after he had kicked his heels and Epona had started off, he bounced around the ring like a sack of grain. Malon had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. When his eyes turned her way, however, she hastily looked down at the grass that was slowly being torn up by the cattle.  
  
After a short ride, he jumped off the horse and exited the enclosed area. Now came the part she dreaded the most: the look on people's faces when Ingo informed them he expected them to pay. But when Ingo spoke to the young warrior, he just gave a small laugh and dropped several rupees into his outstretched palm.  
  
She studied him from her safe distance. Now, here was a strange fellow: he made instant friends with horses and had a loose wallet. And quite a handsome face, she added as an afterthought. He is either a sorcerer or the most skilled horse-tamer in Hyrule, both as unlikely as the other. Should he come back again, I'll have to pay closer attention, Malon decided. He seems rather suspicious.  
  
He came back every day in the next week. Malon would walk into the stable and see him there, leaning patiently at ease against the wall. He would smile, compliment her on her hair, her eyes, anything at all, and then leave to ride a horse. It was always Epona.  
  
And after the week was over, she was still no closer to figuring out who he was, or what he wanted at Lon Lon Ranch. Maybe he was simply a traveler who was developing an interest in horses. Or maybe he wanted to buy the ranch. Or maybe he is interested in me: a thought that once crossed Malon's mind. It was preposterous, stupid, complete and utter nonsense. And yet, she entertained the thought every now and then. A rich young warrior to come and sweep her off her feet. She shook her head, ridding those silly, idle thoughts from her head. Honestly, had her simple life finally caught up to her and slowed her brain?  
  
After almost carelessly tossing the dishes into their shelves one morning after breakfast, she seized the egg basket and rushed to the door, only stopping to adjust the red kerchief she had tied around her head to hide the enormous bruise over her left ear that Ingo had given her the night before. She had come to look forward to those brief meetings in the stable with the strange young man. It had almost become an obsession, trying to discover who he was and why he seemed so familiar. Whenever she had spare room in her mind for thoughts, she filled it immediately with ones about him. She didn't know why, but for some reason, it was vital that she find out who he was. Maybe then she could fill in the holes that dotted her remembrances of the past. Great big crevices of lost memories taunted her constantly, and no matter how hard she tried to fill them, she could not. Maybe he had the answers.  
  
On her way out the door, she walked headlong into Ingo who was hurrying by. He shoved her roughly aside with a curse and continued on, only to veer back to face her. "Listen, girl," he snapped. "My clients in Kakariko are angry that I haven't delivered in a while and are threatening to break off our contract, so I'm going into town. You'll manage while I'm gone, and if I hear of one blunder, I'll beat you so hard your eyes'll go through the back of your head!" Malon nodded quickly. It was either that or receive a blow to the head. When she didn't move, thinking he'd push past her again, he exploded. "GO HARNESS THE HORSES, YOU HALF-WIT BUFFOON!"  
  
She was already in the stable and setting up the wagon by the end of his sentence. She ignored the stinging scrape his shoe had caused when he'd kicked her. She worked quickly, snapping two of the strongest horses, Eastrian and Polli, into the harness and hitching up the wagon with only a little difficulty. She was so caught up in her work, she didn't notice that there was someone else in the stable with her.  
  
Once the wagon was loaded with the products for delivery, Ingo left with a last warning glare. Malon sighed with relief. An entire day without Ingo around: she always looked forward to them. Not having his hand near to hit her or his small squinty eyes to watch her made all the difference in the world while she worked. She picked up the egg basket, and, turning, gave a small scream when she came face to face with the blue-eyed stranger.  
  
His sparkling sapphires twinkled with amusement at the expression on her face. "Good morning," he said. "How are you?"  
  
"I'm – I'm fine..." stuttered Malon. "But, you know... the ranch is closed today," she lied. "Mr Ingo has left for town to sell our products." She hoped against hope that he would leave. Being alone all day with the man didn't appeal to her at all.  
  
The boy smiled and shrugged his shoulders. She was struck once again with the odd sense of familiarity. "That's too bad. Do you think I could stay a while anyway? I've been wanting to talk to you, but Ingo seems so desperate to keep me away from you, I keep my distance so that the man won't get a heart attack."  
  
"I could understand why," she said, shyly keeping her head down and her eyes averted from his. "Mr Ingo doesn't want me to miss doing my chores. I'd no doubt be distracted if I were speaking to anybody. And Mr Ingo always wants people to have fun at Lon Lon Ranch. He knows that people would hardly be having a good time if they were speaking to someone as slow and silly as me." She'd been completely serious, but the swordsman chuckled as though she'd said something funny.  
  
"Well I don't know about some people," he said, "But I for one don't care how silly and slow a person is so long as I can keep looking at a face as pretty as yours." Malon laughed nervously, ducking her head to hide her furious blush behind her red hair. "Do I know you?" he asked suddenly, leaning in closer with a frown to try and look into her eyes. She jerked back on impulse, then, realizing she was being foolish, pretended to be heading out the door. He followed, and she could feel his eyes on her back.  
  
"Did you hear what I said?" he called as they started around the horses' paddock. "I asked if we'd met before." He sped up his pace so that they were walking side by side.  
  
"It's possible. I've met many people during my life at the ranch." Malon stared straight ahead as she talked. It seemed Ingo wasn't the only person she couldn't seem to look in the eye.  
  
"That must be it, then, if you've been working at the ranch for your whole life. You see, I traveled Hyrule as a child, but I moved away for a long time, and now that I've returned, I find myself looking at things and recognising them but not know why. Like that horse, for instance." He pointed to Epona, who was grazing quietly in the paddock with the other horses. "It sounds stupid, I know..."  
  
"No, it doesn't. I feel the same way." Malon blushed at her strange choice of words.  
  
"Do you," he said absently. "Well, my name's Link, if you'd like to know." Link... where had she heard that name before? She felt a little disappointed. The man wasn't the answer to the holes in her memories; he was one of them.  
  
"I'm Malon." She noticed a strange jerk to Link's head when she said her name, as though he had suddenly remembered something, but he didn't say anything, and she soon forgot about it.  
  
They talked all morning, or rather, Link talked and Malon nodded her head. She couldn't trust him, and she couldn't like him. She had trusted and liked Ingo once, when she had been a little girl, and he'd turned out to be cruel, heartless and abusive. There was no saying that this Link would not turn out to the same. Nevertheless, she found herself growing fond of his playful, joking manner and friendly chatter, despite her precautions to remain as hard as a rock.  
  
A rock has no feelings, she reminded herself. A rock does not make friends, and does not enjoy speaking to people. But it was no use. There was no way to keep from enjoying Link's company. He was kind and thoughtful, and he helped out with Malon's chores, coming in to lift a plank or to shove over a crate before she could object. By lunchtime, she was already done for the day. "Would you like some soup," she asked politely as they entered the house.  
  
"If it's not too much trouble, that'd be great," he responded, seating himself at the table and looking around the kitchen. He was silent as Malon bustled about preparing lunch. She felt a lot more comfortable around him already. No! You can't like him! He could be just as violent as Ingo if you did anything to displease him. She had to be careful; she had to be wary.  
  
"Why are you so uncomfortable around me, Malon?" Link asked. "I swear I don't want to be any closer then friends!" he joked.  
  
"Times have changed since we were children." Where had that come from? She had made it seem as though they had grown up together! Had they? "You can't trust anyone these days. I don't know you, you could be an assassin!"  
  
"Yeah, I could be," whispered a voice in her ear. She jumped so violently the knife she had been holding slipped and cut her finger. Snatching up the blade, she held it between them with a shaky hand. Link's smile faded when he saw the expression on her face. Fear and panic was plain on her features, and she held the blade as though it were her only salvation against a terrible foe, and that dropping it would mean sure death.  
  
"Take it easy, I was joking..." She wasn't convinced. "Come on, Malon, just put the knife down. I was only kidding." Still, she didn't move. "Please? I didn't mean it. I'm sorry."  
  
Finally, she dropped the knife and covered her face with her hands. What was wrong with her? Had she gone mad? She had pulled a knife on him!  
  
"I'm sorry, Link. I don't know what happened, I just... I think I need to just calm down ... Why don't you go?"  
  
"Nope, I haven't gotten my soup yet." Link said with and uneasy grin. Malon stared. Did the boy take anything seriously?! He touched her shoulder gently. "Don't worry about it, ok? You had every right to do that; I shouldn't have gotten so close. Here, sit down." He pulled up a chair and ushered her into it. She dropped down on the seat, stunned.  
  
"I can't believe I did that... What if I had actually used it?!" She put a hand to her head. "I must be losing my mind."  
  
"None of that talk." Link said from the cauldron of soup he was now tending over the fire. "Everyone gets a little edgy sometimes. I myself have done that on quite a few occasions, to tell you the truth. Only usually it's a stalfos looking over my shoulder," he added with a short laugh. Malon watched him out of the corner of her eye. Who was he? And despite his cheery tone and expression, she caught Link glancing at her worriedly several times when he thought she wasn't looking during their meal.  
  
Once the bowls were cleared away, Malon made them each a cup of tea, and they sipped it and talked. She found herself telling Link about herself, how her father had been thrown out of the ranch, how she'd stayed behind to take care of things. She refrained from mentioning Ingo's abuse. He'd told her never to tell anyone what he did to her, that there would be terrible consequences if she ever spoke about it. It wasn't that bad, anyway. If he had to hit her to get her to listen, he was allowed to do that, wasn't he?  
  
"So your father's name, you said it was Talon?" Link asked. When Malon nodded, his brow creased in a frown and he rubbed a hand on his forehead. "This ranch, it's so familiar to me. It's the place I can seem to remember the most of in all of Hyrule."  
  
"You're familiar to me as well," she admitted. "But, my memories of my past aren't very clear. I can't even picture my father's face, sometimes."  
  
"Have you ever thought of going to visit him? Surely Ingo would understand if you just wanted to see him? Just for a day?" Malon hesitated. What should she say? That Ingo would beat the daylights out of her if she even suggested leaving, which was the truth? "Well, I suppose he would," she sighed after a pause.  
  
The afternoon slithered by at a snail's pace. Link never got up to leave, and Malon never asked him to. It was wonderful having someone to talk to. She did speak to Epona sometimes, when the loneliness was overwhelming, but it wasn't the same.  
  
At sundown, Ingo returned with an empty cart. He stepped into the kitchen, and, seeing Link there, was all courtesy and politeness. "Malon, dear, why don't you go and take care of the horses." She stalked off to the stables. What a big phoney.  
  
The moment she latched the bar down in front of Eastrian's stall, the door opened, and in walked Link. "I'm leaving now," he said. "Thanks for a great day. I'll see you soon. Take it easy." One last wink, and he was gone.  
  
Ingo bombarded her with questions when she entered the kitchen. What happened? What did he want? Did you sell him anything? He went into a rage when he heard that she hadn't gotten any money from Link, and broke an empty glass bottle over her head. When she came to again, he roared into her face to go to bed. It was just as well, because she wouldn't have been able to make dinner properly with her vision so blurred. 


	5. Link

Chapter 4: Link  
  
"You're not leaving this ranch while I'm still in charge."  
  
Malon looked up from the blanket she was patching up. It was after dinner, and Ingo was in a foul mood about the low prices he had had to resort to to sell the ranch's milk. It didn't help that he'd caught Malon talking to Link while she was supposed to have been tending the vegetable garden. She'd received her punishment for it; she had the enormous bruise on her leg to prove it. "I know that, Mr Ingo."  
  
The man was standing at the other end of the kitchen, feet apart, hands behind back, and moustache bristling angrily. "Then why are you getting so friendly with this big-headed fancy-sworded idiot? You're hoping you'll get him interested, aren't you, hoping he'll propose and you'll be able to leave this ranch! Moronic little harpy!" he spat. He did this often of late. Over-reactions about anything and everything that involved Malon were so commonplace she had almost gotten used to it. However, she wished they occurred less seldom. The punishments that ensued after were getting more and more painful and serious each time.  
  
"I would never even think of leaving, Mr Ingo. My life is with the horses." She did not even have to try to make her voice meek. Sometimes, if she thought hard enough, she could remember a time when she had been straight- backed and proud, not grovelling and Ingo's feet like a lost dog. A hurt dog. Physically and emotionally. No! She couldn't pity herself. Things could be much worse. This was nothing.  
  
Ingo stood over her, glaring down with his tiny bloodshot eyes. "If I catch you speaking to him again, you'll regret it, girl. You stay away from him!"  
  
Malon's jaw dropped and her eyes widened in horror. How could he be so mean and insensitive? Link was the only friend she had, could remember ever having. His visits, that came at least twice a week, were what gave her hope to go on, showed her that life wasn't absolutely terrible. She had no idea how she'd managed without him. If she was forbidden from speaking to him... No. Ingo couldn't do that to her. He wouldn't!  
  
"Mr Ingo," she gasped, her words coming out in a near sob. "There is nothing between Link and I, I promise. We're just friends. If I can't talk to him anymore, I don't know what I'd do. Please, it's not doing any harm!"  
  
The slap she received was less then she had expected. "WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT TALKING BACK TO ME?! IF I TELL YOU TO DO SOMETHING, YOU DO IT!" he roared, spraying Malon with spit. "I HAVE MY REASONS OF DOING WHAT I DO, AND YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO QUESTION ME! DO AS I SAY!"  
  
What she said next shocked her as much as it did Ingo.  
  
"No."  
  
For such a short, simple word, the impact it had on him was both tremendous and terrifying. With a bellow of rage, he seized the small sofa chair in which she was sitting and toppled it sideways, causing her to fall over as well and land painfully on her bruised arm with a gasp of fear. Chest heaving, he looked wildly around the room, looking for all the world like a crazed bull, for something to throw. He grabbed the first thing that his eyes fell upon – the kettle full of water that was heating over the fire – and flung it at her with all of his strength.  
  
The force with which the kettle hit her was the least of her pain: it was the burning hot metal that touched her bare skin over her arm and the boiling water that splashed over her entire body that caused the shriek loud enough to deafen ears. But Ingo had no pity. Before she could move he was upon her with a horsewhip. Her screams did nothing to slow his pace. The sting of the cord cutting into her skin was a different kind of pain then the odd punch or kick he threw in to his otherwise steady whipping, that he added when she least expected it. Blood leaked from the new openings; nothing she did could avoid it. She tried to expose her back: it hurt less when he hit there then, say, her face, but he just curled the whip around to reach those parts anyway. She cried and pleaded, shrieked and screamed, as she was soaked in her own sweat, blood and tears.  
  
And he was enjoying it.  
  
There was no mistaking the cruel, hoarse laughter, the crazed, red glaze of his eyes, the sick, twisted, snarling smile. Now Malon's screams were as much from fear as from pain. She'd never been this scared in her life. At least before when Ingo had hit her, he had appeared saner, angrier. And he hadn't been laughing. She huddled against the wall, all resistance gone, and just sobbed and waited for it to stop. When it finally did, it felt like her entire body was on fire. She heard the door open and close, and then silence.  
  
Shaking from head to toe and taking very weak, feeble breaths, she struggled to support herself as she sat up in a pool of blood and water. She couldn't seem to focus properly. The idea of cleaning up the mess on the floor was the dominant thought. "Ingo will be angry if I don't get it done," she said aloud. Why did her voice sound so distant? Why was it so cold? Why...?  
  
Waking was slow and painful. Her eyes were crusted shut with something, and she had to use some water in a bucket she found by feeling around to get them open again. She was in the stable. Ingo must have dragged her in and left her on the hard wooden floor. How long had she been sleeping - if you could call it that? Judging by the sunlight that shone through the stable's only window and dazzled Malon's eyes, it was dawn, and it was time for her to get to work.  
  
She had a cold bath with water she drew from the well, – there was no time to heat it – tied cloths around her more serious cuts, and put on an old, worn, flowing red skirt and a long sleeved white blouse, despite the heat. She couldn't have people seeing the marks along her arms. She thankfully had only one cut on her face, and that she could cover with a pale red kerchief, as it was near her hairline. Breakfast was quick and silent. Ingo ate his thin flaky pastry without comment and almost seemed preoccupied and in a hurry as he left the kitchen. Sure enough, when she emerged from the kitchen a few minutes later, the wagon was gone, along with two of the horses.  
  
It was a quiet, peaceful day. Autumn was approaching, and the leaves on the tree outside the house, the only one at the ranch, were changing from green to yellow, red and orange. Malon sat at it's foot as she watch the horses prance about in the paddock. Even if fall was near, the wind that rose was warm. She found herself almost falling asleep while looking up into the boughs of the tree. So strange to think that, just last night, she had been more terrified then she ever had. Apart of her still was, she knew. Though she felt and looked relaxed, a knot in her gut was still as tense she had been the evening before.  
  
It didn't matter though... The morning was too warm and peaceful to worry about being on edge...  
  
"Hey!"  
  
"Link! What on earth-... you scared me!" Malon exclaimed, jumping to her feet and brushing off her skirt. She looked at the boy, the one who had been the cause of all that pain last night. She didn't blame him, it was her own fault, but... Why had she been so determined to keep seeing him? It had been stupid anyway, saying no to Ingo. He always got his way with her.  
  
"Link, you shouldn't be here. Ingo doesn't want me to see you anymore," said Malon in a slow, careful voice. What would he say? Would he be angry? Would he hit her? She shook herself mentally. Of course he won't, you blockhead!  
  
"He doesn't? Why should he care?" he asked with a frown. Malon shrugged uncomfortably. Why couldn't Link just understand? No matter how badly she wanted to continue her friendship with him, she never wanted to have to live what she had last night ever again. Pain. Screams. Laughter. A shudder ran through her body, but if Link noticed, he didn't show it.  
  
"Is he here right now?" he asked, looking around the ranch grounds as though he expected Ingo to materialize out of the walls at any moment.  
  
"No, but he could return any time."  
  
"I just want to spend time with you, Malon. I'm sure if I talk to Ingo, he'll let us be," Link said with a reassuring smile.  
  
"I don't think so..."  
  
"Just trust me, ok? Come on, let's go watch the horses." They went to sit down near the paddock gate, and sat in silence for a while, enjoying the nice day. Malon could see Link staring at her out of the corner of her eye .It was uncomfortable. Finally, she turned to face him.  
  
"Why are you looking at me so hard? It's as if I'm a complicated sentence you're trying to understand, with that look on your face..." Was it just she, or did he seem to be looking through her head? When he didn't answer, she grew impatient. "Why are you frowning at me? Stop it! Link! Link? Snap out of it!"  
  
Link's eyes came back into focus. "What? Oh, sorry Malon. Sort of lost myself there."  
  
"Apparently. What were you thinking about?"  
  
"You," he said, without a trace of embarrassment. "I just... I wish you'd be more open with me. I mean, don't you trust me?"  
  
"Of course I do," she responded. "But even best friends have some secrets from each other, and I've only known you for a short while. Do you really want me to tell you everything? The only time people know everything about the other person is if they're in love, or something." She blinked, and quickly added, "... Not that... that is, I..."  
  
Why was she so uneasy? Did she love Link? The idea was ridiculous: she'd never even entertained the thought before, not even when Ingo had accused her of it the night before. But sitting here, under the sunshine, listening to the horses frisk about, and looking into Link's bright, bright blue eyes, it made her feel safer then she'd ever felt before. Was that what love was?  
  
Link grinned that sweet but teasing smile of his. "Yeah, I gotcha." Now feeling her face burn, Malon decided to change the subject. She asked about the world outside, and Link spoke to her of Zora's Domain's current state. She was horrified that it had frozen over.  
  
"I don't understand it. Hyrule has changed so much these past years. Ever since Ganondorf-"She stopped, hesitated. It was dangerous, speaking ill of a ruler. If Link was loyal to him, Malon could be in great trouble. She bit her lip, hoping she hadn't said too much. But Link was no supporter of the tyrant, and he told her so. She was relieved. It would be terrible if they were on opposite sides of the civil war that seemed to be bubbling up in every town and nation in Hyrule. If Link had not spoken of it, Malon would not have known it existed.  
  
"The Gorons are all against him, ever since they returned from wherever they'd disappeared to. Kakariko is in turmoil, and every city east and south of the border is becoming dangerous and almost lawless. I've heard rumours that the Gerudos have become more violent, and taking many more prisoners in without any reason."  
  
"How is it you know so much about the world, Link?" Malon asked. "Are you an explorer, or a treasure-hunter?" So far, Link had been rather shady and hesitant whenever she asked him questions about himself. Today was no exception.  
  
"You could say that, I suppose."  
  
"Why don't you ever tell me about what you do when you're away? Do you visit family? Do you trade merchandise? Are you perhaps a soldier off-duty? I barely know anything about you."  
  
"I'm a mysterious man."  
  
"Clearly," Malon said almost irritably. Link sighed, but didn't answer. And he had accused her of hiding too much! She was puzzled. He seemed to want to tell her, but something was holding him back. What could it be? She racked her brain for a possible reason, but could think of nothing that would keep him from answering her simple question. Silence grew between them, and Link began to fidget uncomfortably. She saw his hand flicker momentarily over a small side pocket on his pack. She'd caught the movement many times before and he seemed to do it without thinking. She had never ventured to ask him about it, but her curiosity was at it's highest.  
  
"What's in that right pocket, Link? You touch it an awful lot. Is it a knife, or a ring?" her eyes shone as they always did when she was interested. If he didn't tell her...  
  
But Link didn't hesitate before opening up the pocket and producing an ocarina. It was smooth and wonderfully shaped, made of unchipped wood and tinted blue. It was very pretty. "Can you play it?" she asked. He brought it to his lips and played a short, quick tune. It was happy and cheerful, and when it was done she urged him to play it again. After the third time, she asked for a different song. His next was slow and sombre, but had a sense of power in the notes. She leaned lazily against the fence. The sound of an ocarina was enchanting.  
  
"Another," she insisted. As he played, the sound and timing of the notes registered into her mind, and she sat bolt upright, eyes wide. She knew that song. It was the one she listened to during her dreams, the one she found herself humming when her mind wandered. Where it came from, she had no idea, but it was a secret that could explain some of her forgotten past, she was sure. The song meant comfort, it meant freedom and happiness, a memory saved and protected from the attack of time, which could erase everything from one's mind. It was a message.  
  
Link noticed her reaction and stopped playing, frowning in puzzlement at her stunned expression. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Where did you learn that song?" Her voice was low and breathless, as though she were afraid of the answer but at the same time desperately needed to hear it.  
  
"I don't know," responded Link, moving closer with a look of concern. "In Hyrule, somewhere, when I was a child. Is it wrong?" When she shook her head, he persisted. "It has something to do with the ranch, doesn't it? I played it to the horse a while back, and she seemed to like it."  
  
As though she knew they were talking about her, Epona appeared over their heads, her snout hovering over the fence. She snorted and shook her glossy white mane. Malon reached up to stroke the velvety satin of her nose. But she wasn't looking at the horse. Her eyes were fixed on Link's, because she was slowly starting to remember that day, seven years ago, when she'd first taught the young Kokiri boy to play her mother's horse-taming song. "Link."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Link!"  
  
"Yes!?"  
  
Malon's eyes lit up in triumph and excitement. She remembered who he was now!  
  
"Fairy Boy!"  
  
She remembered. Days spent frolicking under the sun, jumping about in the rain without cloaks on. They'd been so innocent and careless, harmless and joyful. The times spent with that boy, they'd been the most wonderful days of her life. Until...  
  
Malon's smile of triumph and joy faded as she looked into Link's eyes. Until he'd left, and stopped coming to see her. The day before everything in her life had started going downhill. Could there be a connection? Could this young man be at the heart of her problems? Was he the reason she'd been miserable for seven long years?  
  
Of course not, that was ridiculous. Ingo had made her miserable with his horrible choice of punishments. But that wasn't true, and she knew it. She'd been miserable for the 5 or so years before her father had been kicked out of the ranch. Then it must be because there were so few visitors coming since then...  
  
Try as she might, Malon could not convince herself that Link's departure had not been the cause of the strange loneliness that seemed to float inside of her for seven years now. Why did she deny it, anyway? Was she that frightened of the possibility of falling in love?  
  
Link put a hand on hers, his brow creased in worry. His face was close. Too close. "Is something wrong, Malon? You're acting odd..." Before she realised what she was doing, she had jerked her hand away from his. He was too close; they were too familiar. She couldn't love him, she mustn't. She couldn't trust anyone, not even Link, and when you fell in love, you abandoned your caution, and you surrendered everything to him. She couldn't do that. She had to be strong. He was too close.  
  
Malon jumped to her feet. She muttered something about hay and chickens, before dashing off towards the stables. As she ran, she tried to sort out the blur of emotions in her heart and mind. It was all fuzzy and confusing. This had all happened too fast. You can't fall for someone in the expanse of a morning, she told herself in what she thought to be firm reason, but knew it to be nearer to a weak begging.  
  
In a way, it hadn't been the morning; it had been all seven years he'd been away from her. The fact that she'd forgotten who he was didn't matter. The childhood friendship that had started ages ago had developed into love and affection, no matter how far Link had been during that expanse of time. I don't love him. I don't love him, she repeated over and over to herself in her mind, but knew in her heart that she was lying to herself.  
  
She loved Link, his smile, his laugh, his sapphire blue eyes, and his giving, friendly nature. How she had not seen it before was a wonder. She must have been too wrapped up in doubt and denial to look clearly, and with good reason. She had never felt this way before, and it was definitely the most confusing emotion she'd ever experienced. Love, as she had been told, wasn't supposed to feel like this, full of fear, mistrust and doubt. Loving her father was so much simpler. The affection had been there since her birth, and she knew all along she could trust him with her life.  
  
But Link, he was little better then a stranger, and here she would be throwing her hope and her life at his feet. This couldn't be. She would never surrender to him. Being his friend was difficult enough: her eyes still filled with a haunted fear at the memory of last night. To have fallen in love...  
  
She reached the stable door, wrenched it open, darted inside, and slammed it shut behind her, throwing the large room into darkness, with only the odd crack in the wooden walls as lighting. She leaned against the doorframe and put a hand to her forehead. This was utterly terrible. There were a thousand reasons why she could not allow this love to blossom between her and Link, if he did indeed return these feelings. The most prominent was the fact that she did not and could never trust him. As far as she was concerned, he could turn out to be just as cruel and heartless as Ingo. No one could be trusted.  
  
She heard soft footsteps outside, and the door opened. Link stepped in and his eyes fastened on Malon. The light from outside and the darkness from the stable cast odd shadows on his face, accentuated his long curved nose, his pointed ears, his unusually long lashes and sparkling eyes, before he shut the door and plunged it back into darkness. From the light of the small cracks, she could just make out his dim shape draw closer to her. Cornered between the wall and a stall's fence, she could back up no further from his approach.  
  
"Why do you run from me, Malon? I only want to help you." His voice sounded pained and saddened. Her eyes began to adjust to the blackness around them: she could see his face more clearly. He moved closer. "Please, tell me the truth. If you don't want to be with me anymore, then I'll leave." That sounded like the last thing in the world that he wanted to do.  
  
Her voice came out as a sob. "It's not that, Link. I want to be your friend. I do. It's just... I'm so confused. I-"She felt his hands close around hers and she shuddered with fear and pleasure at his touch. She could feel his breath on her face, they were so close. Too close. But this time, she didn't back away. She couldn't back away. The moment had frozen her in place; if the stable collapsed over their heads, she would not move. She felt a tear drop from her eye and trickle down her cheek. She was terribly afraid. If she thought what was going to happen happened, there would be no turning back. She would have to face her feelings and no longer be able to run from them. And how could she, when Link could be simply worming his way into her affections to hurt her like Ingo did. Like he had last night.  
  
Link whispered her name, and she felt the sigh of the word brush her own lips. Too close. Much, much to close. "Why are you crying, Malon? Why are you afraid?" The light of the cracks in the wall were just enough for her to able to make out his face, concerned and... loving? His hands let go of hers, instead encircling her thin form. They came to rest on her back, overtop of the numerous, still-healing cuts from last night, and she flinched. She hoped he hadn't noticed, but the damage was done. He took his hands away immediately, and his tone became low and cautious, almost dangerous.  
  
"He hits you, doesn't he?"  
  
Her eyes were as wide as they could go, and they glistened wetly. She couldn't lie to him, but she couldn't tell him either. Ingo had forbidden it. But Link became more insistent. "Tell me. He hits you, I know it, but I have to hear you say it. You have to trust me, Malon."  
  
Trust. Yes, trust was good. She looked into Link's eyes, and she could envision all her troubles melting away with the words that she could speak right now. No. She was being childish. Her troubles would not melt away: they would increase tenfold. She must lie, or risk endangering herself and Link as well. She must chase him away. Ingo would kill Link if he knew what was happening right now, and likely flog her within an inch of her life. There was no escaping him, she had to embrace the life she was cursed with, and she must not drag others in with her.  
  
But lying, it was much easier said then done. Especially when you were an inch apart from the prettiest eyes and most handsome face you'd ever seen. I must get away, she thought frantically, before I betray myself. Forcing her legs to move, she pulled away from him with all her might and clawed at the door handle. But he seized her wrist and turned her to face him once more. "Tell me, Malon," Link said almost angrily. "Just tell me!"  
  
She didn't know whether it was his raised tone, or the slight slant to his eyebrows, or the hand on her wrist, but instead of Link's face near her, she saw Ingo's, twisted into such a fury as could ever be imagined. With a scream of pure terror, she threw herself to the ground and curled herself into a protective ball.  
  
"Don't hurt me, please!"  
  
Silence. Malon's quivering slowed a bit, and she had courage enough to open her eyes a slit to peer through a gap in her arms at the figure standing over her, half expecting a raised fist ready to strike. But it was only Link, staring down at her with a face to stricken and pitifully lost that she could not help but sit up. However, she still kept her eyes half- closed, ready in case he really did decide to hit her.  
  
"How could you think that? I would never hurt you, not for anything in the world. How could you say that?" His voice shook, and he looked closer to tears then Malon had ever seen a man. Once again, he seemed to be looking through her at something behind her.  
  
"He hits me, Link." It was the faintest of whispers, but it was enough to bring the young man back to his senses. He dropped to his knees beside her, eyes fastened to her face. She didn't move away. She had started their joint destruction, and nothing could erase it now. Tears fell from her eyes, and before she knew what had happened, she was in Link's arms, crying into his shoulder like a small child. He held her close, careful to avoid touching her where there were whiplashes. They stayed like that for a good ten minutes, sitting against eachother on the stable floors, until Malon's crying had faded to an occasional sniffle.  
  
Finally, Link stood, pulling Malon up along with him. Without a word, he led her to the ladder that went up to her tiny room in the loft. After climbing it, he sat down on her bed, rummaged through his pack, and pulled out a clear glass bottle full of a thick, oozing red liquid. She looked somewhat uneasy, especially when Link asked her to unbutton her blouse.  
  
He rolled his eyes at her look of shock and outrage. "Malon, this is for the sole purpose of healing those marks on your back. I promise I won't try anything." She smiled sheepishly, and after turning her back to him, slipped her top off of her shoulders. The substance he rubbed into her back with gentle strokes gave her a pleasant, tingling, cooling sensation everywhere it touched. When the liquid had sunk into her skin, he blew on it to tickle her, and she arched her shoulders and giggled. It was the first time she'd laughed in a very long time, and when the strange sound hit her ears, she began to cry anew.  
  
"Don't cry. Everything will be okay now, you'll see," Link murmured, wrapping his arms around her bare upper body and resting his chin on her shoulder. Malon had never felt so close to anyone before, neither so safe. Even her father's arms didn't seem to shut out the dangers and her fears quite like Link's did. He even managed to make her forget that she was naked from the waist down. If she could stay here, forever...  
  
She was brought back to her senses when Link kissed her lightly on the cheek, barely more then a brush of his lips. She turned to face him, a look of surprise and wonder on her face. He had a mischievous grin on his.  
  
"You said you wouldn't try anything," she teased, and managed a laugh despite the fluttering in her stomach. "Now hand me my shirt before you violate your promises even more."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Link mocked, putting on a perfect imitation of a bowing and scraping servant. He tossed her the white blouse, which she buttoned up as quickly as possible, then sat down on the bed facing her, eyes shining. He was so handsome, with his playful smile and his bright eyes. Whatever came over her at that moment, she could never really describe later on. All she knew was that she had to tell him something, and had suddenly gotten this reckless inspiration from deep inside of her that forced the words out of her mouth.  
  
"I love you, Link." She seemed as amazed with herself as he was pleased.  
  
"I love you too, Malon. More then anything else I've ever seen, heard or met."  
  
And before they knew what was happening, they were in eachother's arms, locked in a kiss so powerful, the very triforce couldn't have pulled them apart.  
  
By the next hour, Link was gone, with a promise to return as soon as he could. Malon finished her chores before Ingo returned, feeling lighter and happier then she could ever remember feeling before, and it had nothing to do with the absence of sores on her back. And Ingo was too busy being pleased with current business situation to waste time hitting her.  
  
Over the next week or two, Link came by only once. He rode Epona around the paddock (for a fee, of course), pretended to leave, and then slipped into the stable to see Malon. She lived and breathed for that once encounter. Since Link had come into her life, it had so much more meaning, like a dull painting that had been re-done with new colour and life. His visit had been so wonderful, she'd missed him the minute he'd left...  
  
She had felt a hand on her shoulder, and had turned to see Link gazing down at her adoringly. She had known it was he: Ingo always slammed the doors, and Link had closed it as gently as possible.  
  
She'd spent an hour sitting in his lap against the stable wall, just talking. Link still refused to tell her what he did while he was away, but his fairy, whom he called Navi, came out of his pack to see her. He kept her hidden most of the time so as not to raise suspicion, but when Malon inquired what he meant, he shut up until she changed the subject. Navi was more talkative then Link, and seemed to have an opinion on everything and everyone. Link said she had stored up extra energy while in his pack, so she was overly energetic. Malon was glad of that: she enjoyed the fairy's company very much.  
  
Link still did not remember their previous friendship as children, but when he was told about it, he bombarded her with questions. She told him everything she could recall: their games, their talks, their horseback rides around the ranch. He seemed especially interested in Epona.  
  
She enjoyed herself immensely, sitting in Link's arms and talking the day away, except when Ingo walked in. Link dove into a heap of hay, and Malon pretended to be separating the clumps, all the while covering the young man more thoroughly. Ingo noticed nothing, he simply shouted at her for taking so long with the stable chores. Once Ingo had left, and once Link had emerged from his grave of straw, they made a hasty good-bye, but not too hasty to omit a rather long kiss.  
  
And after Link snuck out of the stable, Malon's knees could not support her any longer, and she sunk to the floor in a daze. That was her first kiss, and it had been incredible. 


	6. Loss of Hope

Chapter 5: Loss of Hope  
  
The tinkling trickle of the river's water mixed with the soft singing of the leaves dancing with the soft breeze, complete with the softness of the grass underfoot was so peaceful that Malon had difficulty believing it was real. That there existed such a place of beauty and harmony in the world... a month ago, she would have never even have considered the possibility. Epona was grazing nearby, and Link lay sprawled on the grass a meter or two away. The horse sidled closer to him, finally standing over him, and nuzzled against his neck. Link murmured something incoherent and stroked her shiny, white mane.  
  
Malon watched with a smile. Epona and Link were her best, closest and only friends she had, and she loved them with all her heart and soul. Epona wandered off once more, leaving Malon with a better view of the young man. He wore his green tunic today, with his ever-present sword and shield in a heap near his pack. Navi hovered nearby, silent for once, seeming to be making some kind of game by floating from flower to flower and perching on its petals. Link looked to be, as he usual was, lost in thought, staring up at the many clouds in the sky.  
  
Malon wondered about him. They had grown much, much closer over the past month, and their relationship had developed into a seemingly unbreakable bond. He'd had an amazing affect on her confidence and sense of self, which was amazing considering everything she'd been through before she'd met him... again. She'd shared everything with him: her opinions, her worries, her thoughts, her life. And yet, he persisted in being silent and mysterious, even when he knew every scrap there was to know about her. She was not resentful, but she wished that once, just once, he would be open and willing to talk to her about himself. All she knew about him was what she could remember him telling her as a child. He was from Kokiri Forest, and he'd left to search for treasure. And whenever she tried to coax more from him, he would get an odd clench in his jaw that said quite plainly, "I won't speak a word."  
  
She slinked toward him as softly as she could, leaned over him, and looked down into his face. His eyes were closed, and his breathing deep. She didn't think he was sleeping, but just to make sure, she whispered into his ear.  
  
"Link, are you sleeping?"  
  
He opened his eyes, and she was struck with the incredibly blue brilliance of them. She had always thought her eyes were a pretty shade of sapphire, but they were like a dull grey compared to his. He smiled, and reached up to run his hands through her sun-red hair.  
  
"You're so beautiful, Malon."  
  
It was then that she was struck with a sense of mischief and curiosity so strong that it was much too tempting to pass up the opportunity.  
  
"Even more beautiful then Zelda?" she asked sweetly, hoping she had caught him off his guard. Ever since she'd seen the crest of the Royal Family engraved into the hilt of his sword, she'd had suspicions that he had connections with the Royal Family, and she was determined to discover what sort of link he had with it.  
  
"Most definitely..." Link replied, and her heart sang. However, her triumph was very short-lived. "...you little schemer. Why the devil do you keep trying to spring answers from me?" He didn't seem very angry, only bemused. He propped himself up on his elbows and looked at her levelly.  
  
Malon sighed. She would wager ten to one this would not go well. These talks never did. "I love you, Link, and you know that. I'd do anything for, and I don't keep anything from you. I just wish you could return the favour. I don't need for you to tell me every detail of your life, but I know nothing about you, and that bothers me, because I care for you, and I want us to be apart of each other."  
  
He looked grimmer and more indecisive then she'd ever seen him before. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether she could handle the truth or not. Malon wondered what could possibly be so bad.  
  
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Link said quietly after a long moment. However, she caught the hint of question in his tone. He was asking her whether she would believe him, no matter how ridiculous his claim. She nodded encouragingly.  
  
"I would, Link. You know I would."  
  
He heaved another sigh, and looked about himself as though seeking a way out. After another long pause, he said. "I'm the Hero of Time."  
  
Of all the things he could have said, this was the last Malon had expected. Her mouth dropped open in complete and utter shock and (though she tried to hide it) disbelief. The Hero of Time, destined to save Hyrule and the world from destruction, legendary time-traveller, breaker of all laws? He couldn't possibly be all that. Stories about the Hero of Time were all full of great adventures and evil demons and pretty princesses. The Hero certainly never fell in love with a simple ranch girl, not unless she was a princess in disguise. She told Link all this, and only when she was finished did she realize that she had been babbling.  
  
"You have to believe me on this, Malon," he said. "Proof I have, if that's what you want, though it'd mean so much to me if you could trust me without it."  
  
She smiled and sat down in his lap, facing him, with her arms wrapped around his middle. "I believe you." Her eyes narrowed suddenly. "Is Zelda prettier then me? Because like it or not, you and I are quite serious, and I can't have you chasing other women, no matter how... pretty..." she trailed off, drowned out by Link's lips on hers. It enraged her, and made her feel like kissing him until the end of time. Of all the ways to make her be quiet, he had to pick the most gentle, intoxicating, heart melting one there was. What did it matter, really, if he thought Zelda was prettier? The fact that he was here, now, toying with her hair and kissing her like that, was all she needed to know.  
  
She struggled to hold her thoughts together as they were swept away in a tidal wave of emotion. The words she had been about to say seemed so small beside Link's soft kiss, his gentle touch. If she spoke, she would ruin this blissful moment. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a shout told her to hold strong, to not give in. It slowly sank in, and with tremendous effort, she pulled away, and her heart seemed wilt from the absence of the closeness that she and he had shared seconds before. "You know, that's not going to work. You can't just kiss me whenever you want to avoid answering a question." Breathlessness tinged her voice.  
  
Link smiled his mischievous smile, that odd, lop-sided grin she'd come to adore seeing on his face and in his eyes. "Can't I?" The crash of emotions flooded in once more, banishing every thought her head had held, as he kissed her again with much more care. Malon surrendered to the overpowering feelings Link had erupted from deep inside of her. She had no doubt in her mind that this was true love, but a nagging feeling knotted her stomach. She did love Link, but he couldn't possibly be the Hero of Time. She didn't know why he would lie to her about that, but though she wanted to believe him, she just couldn't.  
  
Three whole weeks passed without word or sight of Link, and the happiness Malon felt whenever she saw him had long since wilted. He used to see her all the time. He'd sneak into the stable and wrap his arms around her and murmur loving, comforting words. She lived for those encounters, for those quiet whispers and gentle strokes through her long red hair. But she'd not seen him in twenty-one days, and her desperation was growing each morning that she waited and waited to be disappointed each time. A bubble of fear had developed in the pit of her stomach, though she tried to ignore it. Fear that he had been pretending to care for her, that he'd just fed her a pack of lies for a kiss or two. She'd lie awake at night, those haunting thoughts floating around in her mind. No matter how hard she tried to stamp on them, they would not go away. No matter how insistent were her explanations for his long absence, they remained always.  
  
She would pace the length of her tiny room, trying to work things out, but it led only to tears of pain and frustration. This hurt too much, more then anything Ingo had ever done to her. These doubts that boiled constantly inside of her were slowly ebbing away at her sanity, and she knew, but could do nothing to stop them, no matter how hard she tried. Three weeks doesn't seem that long to you or I, but to a young woman, forced to work under the eyes of a half-mad creature of a man who hit her without so much as a blink of his eye, it seemed like years. On top of it all, she spent her nights lying awake in her bed, tossing and turning with her troubles and her aching body, and the bit of sleep she managed to catch was haunted with nightmares. She was more miserable and depressed then she'd ever felt in her life. To have something so wonderful enter your life and disappear a month later was unbearable.  
  
One night, after Ingo had retired to his room, Malon began to climb the ladder up to her hayloft, and paused to stare at the bloody cut on her hand. She studied it with a frown. Ingo had given it to her but moments ago, that she knew, but she could not remember why, or with what, or ... if he had done it at all. What if it hadn't been Ingo? What it had been her? She shivered. Had she gone insane? She tried to tear her eyes away from the gash, but could not. She stood at the foot of the ladder for a full ten minutes, staring at the hand that hung limply on a rung.  
  
During that time, she was as still and expressionless as a boulder. The darkness around her was deep and penetrating, and seemed to come from her as much as surround her. The silence was eerie; the horses and cows made no noise at all. The first movement she made was to remove her hand from the ladder. She did so so subtly and calmly that she barely noticed it herself. Without any hesitation she stepped out of the stable and walked down the path.  
  
She was stiff and erect, deadly calm and almost regal. Her boots made next to no noise on the packed dirt of the road, and her step was sure and steady. The chill of the night did not seem to bother her, even though she wore nothing but a thin, white summer dress. Moonlight peered behind a cloud down upon the earth, and the effect was so strange and spooky that anyone who witnessed the scene would undoubtedly be terrified to see a lone woman walking as though in a trance, wearing nothing but thin cloth, from the ranch down the hill and on, with eyes cold and face blank.  
  
All through the night she walked, never faltering or slowing, never changing direction or showing any sign of life other then the movement of her legs. Her mind was as blank as her face; she just walked, on and on. When she grew hungry, she pushed the very thought away. When she grew tired, she shut out the possibility. She no longer cared for anything or anyone. She was nothing, and she had no ideas, no feelings. She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, and nothing else.  
  
She didn't really understand what it was she was doing, or why. She had just come to the conclusion, after that brief period of serious discovery of self earlier on that night, that she no longer wanted anything to do with herself or her past. She was dead inside, and she wanted to get away. If Ingo... No. She would not think of him. He was apart of her past, and had no business in her reflections now. Link would... No! Link was a thing of yesterday. She had to erase everything from before. She had to get as far away as she could from that cursed ranch and that cursed life and love.  
  
And so she walked on, past Hyrule castle, and into the forest surrounding all of Hyrule. All that night, and the day after, she continued. By dusk, she was exhausted, dehydrated and starving, but she refused to stop. She had to get away. She didn't notice when she started to slump, nor when she began to totter crazily, trying vainly to keep on her feet. Finally, she collapsed on the ground, and lost consciousness.  
  
Blue. Red. Green. Yellow.  
  
Blurred patches of colours clouded her vision. Her body ached terribly, and she felt extremely cold and extremely hot at the same time. Sweat beaded on her forehead, but she couldn't raise a hand to wipe it off.  
  
"Malon? Can you hear me? Are you awake, hun?"  
  
She blinked her eyes furiously, trying to clear the blurs from her sight. They only seemed to mould together more intricately. No smells touched her nose, and no tastes her tongue, as though her senses were not functioning. She squirmed where she laid, trying to muster the strength to sit up straight, but it was useless. Her body felt like melted butter. No, flaming butter: her limbs, chest, throat and eyes burned excruciatingly.  
  
Where was she? What had happened? How long had she lain unconscious on the forest floor? Had someone found her? Brief thoughts slugged across the otherwise emptiness of her mind. When they did, she tried to reach out and grab them, but as soon as she caught an idea, it evaporated before she could begin to consider it. So she lay there, vulnerable and thoughtless, not able to do anything else.  
  
After a moment, she felt something touch her forehead. If she could have moved, she would have brought up a hand to swat it away, whatever it was. The first emotion since awakening breached the blankness of her mind. Fear.  
  
"Malon," came a murmur from somewhere over her head. "Wake up, girl." She strained her ears, trying to hear more of the voice. She didn't know why, but it was important to listen to what it said. Again, questions tried to form in her mind, but vanished as soon as she tried to grasp them.  
  
Fear still rimmed the edge of her thoughts, mixed in with the hot and cold spells that were assailing and the pain in her limbs and head. She felt utterly powerless without sight or movement. It was more then she could bear to wait here at the mercy of whoever or whatever was talking to her and touching her. Taking a deep breath that seemed to gnaw at her throat and chest, she brought up a hand to touch the thing on her forehead. It was smooth, warm and fleshy. Ignoring the pain that stabbed at her muscles, she traced it's contour, felt the hard nails, shallow crevices, long fingers and rough skin of a hand. It squeezed her own reassuringly and a strange feeling crossed the blankness of her mind. Trust? Doubt? Terror?  
  
Her vision began to clear, the blurs beginning to separate and become individual objects instead of one whole mess of colours. She was sitting on her back, staring up into a cloudy sky half hidden by outstretched leaves that swayed in a light breeze. She turned her head, tracing a dirt path with her eyes; it's brown ribbon led off into a bend in the forest trail. White and violet wildflowers grew on it's edge, and Malon caught a glimpse of a bird fluttering through the high bows of a tree. Such a sense of peace was almost unimaginable when there was such turmoil in her heart. Thoughts that had evaded her before were now quite present, now that her mind seemed to have cleared, and they were not happy ones.  
  
Suddenly, she remembered the person with whom her fingers were twined, and snapped her head back so quickly she winced at the pain it caused in her neck. She took in the short brown beard, rough sun-darkened skin and soft grey eyes almost like in a dream. In an instant that seemed eternity, she gazed up into her father's face with such joy that all the pain she had suffered during his absence shrunk and paled by comparison. Tears glistened in Talon's eyes as he stroked his daughter's forehead. Words were useless, explanations were unnecessary. If Malon could have spent the rest of her life laying here crying with her Daddy for the indescribable joy they had been blessed with, she would have. After almost two years separated from him, she was finally back with her father. 


	7. Last Lullaby

Chapter 6: Last Lullaby  
  
A week later, Talon sat by Malon's bed, feeding her a bowl of cold soup–hot soup made her dizzy. He spent her every waking hour by her side and talked to her of anything that came to mind. She couldn't speak: she'd all but lost her voice since waking from unconsciousness that day. She spoke no more then a sentence or two a day, but Talon had no problem filling in her silence. They had a lot to catch up to, after all. And when he noticed her eyelids drooping or a yawn that she tried to hide, he'd be out the door in a flash to give her rest. "Sleep that fever away, love," he'd always say before he kissed her and departed.  
  
Malon woke after one such rest to find her father slumped in his usual chair by her bed, snoring louder then thunder. She heaved one of the blankets covering her onto his person, sitting up a bit to wrap it around securely. The effort took up so much energy that it took a good five minutes to catch her breath.  
  
Even though she had been confined to her bed (her real bed) until her fever went down, it was worth it to feel such peace and contentment. Talon was back at the ranch, and Ingo was gone. Her father didn't really understand why or how it had all happened, but he was sure it had something to do with "the young forest man" that had come to see him the day before he'd found Malon in the northwest forests of Hyrule.  
  
"He was all hot and bothered, rushed in callin' fer me like a madman. Blurted out somethin' in an awful rush, an' I had to listen three times to understand, and even then all I knew was that the boy had driven Ingo away from the ranch when he'd come by and seen you weren't there. Begged me to go out an' look for ya, said he had somethin' else ta do that couldn't be waited for. Sort of reminded me of that young fairy fellow you used to play with... Anywho, if I ever find the lad again, I'll bless the air he breathes fer savin' me, you and the whole bloomin' ranch!"  
  
Malon wondered what Link (for it could not have been anyone but him) had needed to attend to so badly. If he'd been so frantic to save her, surely nothing could be more important to him then finding her. The whole thing confused her, and though what he'd done for her and the ranch had proven that he did care for her, she could not understand why he was avoiding her. A reason floated to the surface of her reflections. He'd said he was the Hero of Time. Was it so hard to believe now?  
  
Yes. Yes it was. She refused to believe it. And the more she thought about it, the more it seemed an excuse for his disappearance. It had been the last time she'd seen him. In any case, Link was no longer apart of her. She would continue her life as it was meant to be.  
  
Talon had told her that Link had take Epona. She felt strangely glad of that. Epona liked Link, and she would have a much better life with him that cooped up in Lon Lon Ranch anyway. Now that her father was back, she didn't need to talk to her anymore.  
  
Malon snuggled deeper into the covers. Life was wonderful. She was going to get the life she'd always dreamed of after all: living on the ranch with her father and the animals. Perhaps she'd find a husband someday. Perhaps Link would return? No! She wouldn't think of him.  
  
The room swayed about her, and she shut her eyes tight and clenched her teeth, trying to still her heaving stomach. This was happening more and more often of late. It was less the room that swayed and more her head. She still had hot and cold spells, and though her muscles no longer ached, there was a soreness behind her eyes that hadn't been there before, and her head always felt like it would burst. She rubbed at her eyes, as though to wipe away the pain behind them. This fever only seemed to be getting worse.  
  
How could someone speak so calmly after losing someone so dear to them? How could they stop crying when they knew that they'd never see someone again? Talon sat by Malon's side, as he had done for two weeks since their reunion. Only now, her eyes were closed forever more. Her chest did not rise and fall. Her skin had no warmth. Her spirit had no life.  
  
Her coffin was closed, but the lid was of glass, so people come to pay their respects could still see her. But that wasn't really Malon. The real Malon was young woman full of love and life, with bright blue eyes and sunny red hair. This, this wasn't her. This was a dead shell without colour. Her skin was pale, her hair was faded. The real Malon was gone.  
  
He'd stopped crying now, which was a miracle. Tears had been streaming from his eyes as soon as he realized he was losing her, that her health was only getting worse with each passing hour. He'd tried vainly to save her. But he'd known it was too late. To watch your daughter die in your arms with a feel of unimaginable powerlessness and sorrow was undoubtedly the most terrible feeling on earth. He had sobbed through her last hour of life, holding her close to him as she told him not to worry, when she was the one that was leaving her life behind.  
  
Thank the gods he at least had had a chance to see her one last time. He had gotten the chance to see the lovely young woman she'd become. They had given him that much, and he was thankful.  
  
A steady stream of sympathisers came from Lon Lon Ranch's gateway. The coffin stood outside in the bright sunshine, where Malon had loved to sit and sing her mother's song. The horses were in the paddock, and the chickens and cows still in the barn. Malon had always loved horses best.  
  
Presently, there came a thudding of hooves on the dirt path, and Epona trotted through the iron gates, ridden by a handsome young man with gold hair and wearing a green tunic and a sword and shield strapped to his back, followed by a fairy. His eyes were fixed to Malon's coffin, even when he dismounted and began walking up the line of people.  
  
Talon jumped to his feet and almost ran to greet him. It was the boy that had told him of his daughter's predicament, the one that had reunited them once more. Had the young man asked, he would have grovelled at his feet. But the fellow brushed past without a glance, and came to stand beside Malon and stare through the glass lid at her face. A stone would have envied the blankness of his face.  
  
A murmur rippled through the small crowd of mourners. Who was he, they asked. Why didn't he wait in line, they wondered. But no one twitched a hand in his direction except Talon, not with that dangerous look in his bluer-then-the-sky eyes. The big rancher approached to stand beside him, and didn't seem to care at all that he was totally ignored.  
  
A tear trickled down the young man's face, but he noticed it no more then he did anything else. He gazed down at a Malon's face as though it were the only real thing left to look upon. He reached a hand out, undoubtedly to touch her red-gold hair that streamed out under her head like thousands of tiny ribbons, but it was stopped by the glass around the coffin. He made no attempt to remove it.  
  
As the silence grew at the ranch-a silence that was only occasionally broken by the whinny of a horse-people began to fidget uncomfortably. The boy did not look ready to move, and no one wanted to go near him. After an eternity of waiting, a change occurred in his stance.  
  
From his pack he took a blue ocarina beautifully shaped and crafted, with the crest of the Royal Family carved into its centre. It produced a soft, sweet sound when he brought it, and the song he played was a happy tune, making it contrast with the sombre looks on everyone's faces. Talon stared. It was the same song his late wife had sung to Malon over her cradle every night. This boy, whoever he was and whatever connection he had with his daughter, would remain in his heart forever. He had played for Malon her last lullaby. 


End file.
